


The Iron Thread

by Jennifer_Collins



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angst, Anxiety, Assassins, Black Widow - Freeform, Black Widow Program, Breakups, Clintasha - Freeform, Drama, Female Rivalry, Femme Fatale, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Infatuation, Intense Relationships, Iron Widow - Freeform, IronWidow - Freeform, Lies, Light Pepperony, Loyalty, Lust, Male-Female Friendship, Mind Manipulation, Moments of multiship, Nightmares, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Murder, Past Rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationships, Past Violence, Red Room, Reflection, Rivalry, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Tonynat, Trust Issues, Underage - Freeform, Underage Sex Acts, but Tonynat is endgame, it won’t always be pretty, passionate relationships, past history, self discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennifer_Collins/pseuds/Jennifer_Collins
Summary: The Black Widow weaves a complicated web around the men in her life, with all the strands centered around one common thread that is the strongest of all.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 47
Kudos: 81





	1. Prologue

Prologue

February 10, 1991 

The little girl peered into the banquet hall of the trendy Malibu mansion. She wasn’t used to the California heat and the crowd of bodies in sophisticated suits and colorful dresses moving to the beat of a live dj did nothing to help the situation. 

She pushed her long red curls away from her face and smoothed her palms over the deep purple dress she was forced to wear, wishing she could tear away the layers of tulle underneath. “A proper little girl,” her uncle had told her with a wink as they’d entered the mansion. 

She was jarred from her thoughts by a crashing sound a few feet away and she turned her attention away from the open doorway , her green eyes wide as she placed a hand on the wall, following the architecture around the bend. 

A young man appeared from behind a swinging door, thick dark brown hair curling around the open collar of his neatly pressed dress shirt, a sly smirk on his face as he stumbled a few steps on the intricate rug that ran the length of the hall. 

“What’s the matter, kid?” He asked when he saw her, a hint of surprise in his big brown eyes at finding that he wasn’t alone in the dim hall. “You lost?” He motioned for her to come to him and she followed. 

“No,” she said simply, gazing up at him. 

“Why aren’t you at the party? Not that this is a good place for a little kid,” he said, the smirk reappearing on his face. 

She shrugged. “Adults are boring.” 

He laughed, a short, drunken sound and when he crouched down patronizingly to her level she could smell the alcohol on his breath and it made her wrinkle her nose.

“You’re right about that, sweetheart. Adults are boring.” He reached for her hand. “Why don’t you come with me and I’ll help you find your mom and dad in there.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I’m not with my mom or dad,” she said. 

“Well, then what are you doing here?” He asked idly, clearly losing interest. 

She shrugged again. “My uncle is doing business with your dad’s friend,” she told him. 

Something in his expression changed and she could tell that she had his attention again. 

“My dad, huh? So you know who I am?” 

“I know who you are, Mr. Stark.” 

He cringed, straightening back up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Mr. Stark is my dad’s name. I’m Tony.” 

She nodded obediently. “Okay, Tony.” 

He smiled, his cheeks rising to meet his slightly glassy eyes. “And you are….?” 

“Nancy.”

“Well, little Nancy in a big fancy dress,” he said, his smile widening as he took her hand, holding it above her head and twirling her around as he took in her purple party dress, tiny purse hung from a chain strap around her neck, white tights and black Mary Jane shoes on her feet. “Fancy, Nancy, Clancy,” he added as he spun her and she laughed. 

“Why aren’t you at the party? Isn’t it your party?” 

“I’m pissing off my dad, clearly,” he told her. “You want some ice cream? Kids like ice cream, right?” 

She nodded happily, taking off at an enthusiastic trot as she followed him through the swinging door he’d staggered out of a few moments ago. 

He waved to a few of the kitchen staff. “Jarvis, can get we get my new friend here some ice cream?” 

The older man dressed all in black with a black tie and black jacket raised his bushy gray eyebrows. “Sir?” 

He gestured with his hand. “It’s fine, I got it. Just keeping her entertained while her uncle closes a deal with Obie.” 

“Your taste in female companionship has gotten much younger,” he commented in an English accent, clearly thinking his observation had gone over her head. 

Tony laughed as he wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her up onto a high kitchen stool so she could sit at the counter. “What are you, like four?” He asked, reaching for a bottle of dark liquid as Jarvis handed her an ice cream cone. 

"I’m six and a half,” she said sharply before darting her tongue out to lick at the slowly melting drops of pistachio ice cream. “How about you? Are you even old enough to drink alcoholic beverages? Or do you get to do whatever you want because you’re rich?” 

He laughed louder, a deep belly laugh. “You’re alright, you know that? You remind me of myself when I was your age. Forget Nancy, I’m going to call you Sassy. You like that?”  
She smiled, taking a large bite out of her ice cream. 

“I’d better get you back to the party before your uncle comes looking for you. I don’t want you to get in trouble, Sassy.” 

She pouted. “Do we have to?” 

“Yes, we have to,” he said, sticking out his lower lip to match hers. “Come on. Finish your ice cream and let’s get to it. I may even let you dance on my shoes if your uncle’s still with my dad.” 

“Deal,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake. 

He shook her hand, keeping his hold on her as he lowered her back down to the floor and she didn’t let go as he ushered her towards the door. 

He grinned, swinging their arms lightly at his side as he let her keep holding his hand. 

She wrinkled her nose again at the bright lights and the loud music once they’d re-entered the hall. 

“Which one is your uncle?” He asked.

She nodded her head in his direction and pointed with her hand. 

Tony must not have recognized him because it seemed as though he was losing interest again as his eyes scanned the crowd. 

“What’s that?” She quickly asked, pointing to his wrist to get his attention back to her. 

He held his arm up and tapped at the band with his other hand. “This? It’s my watch,” he said. 

“That’s not like any watch I’ve ever seen.” 

“Pretty high tech, huh? You like it? I made it.” 

She nodded slowly, her eyes trained on the device. “Does it play any games?” 

“Of course it plays games.” He unstrapped it from his wrist and handed it to her. “Here, you wanna play? You can have that until your uncle says it’s time to go home.” 

“I don’t want to go home,” she said in a small voice, gazing up at him. 

“Why not? I thought you hated it here.” 

“But I think I’m in love with you,” she told him, wide green eyes looking right into his big brown ones.

He smiled again, that wide, sly smirk back on his face. “Love is for children, Nancy,” he said. 

“I am a child,” she pointed out. 

Something changed in his expression again and he reached out, clumsily patting her head. “You stay that way for as long as you can,” he mumbled. Then he winked. “I’ll tell you what. You give me a call if you’re still interested in about fifteen years, okay?”

She didn’t say anything, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small hand held device. 

“What’s that?” He asked, watching with mild interest as she pressed a button to turn it on. 

“It’s my video game,” she said, holding it under his watch. “See? Same as yours.” 

Just then he looked over her head, putting a hand over his mouth. “Aw, man. It’s my dad. And your uncle. Looks like the party’s over,” he said, reaching for his watch. 

She handed it over to him. “Bye, Tony,” she said, waving as her uncle approached. 

“Bye, Sassy.” He placed an unsteady hand on her cheek. “You be a good girl, now.” 

“Seriously, Anthony?” His father scolded. “Playing with children now, to avoid your responsibilities. I’m disappointed in you.” 

“Yeah, what else is new?” He mumbled as he walked off beside the older man. 

She watched as he stopped at the bar, smiling as he signaled to the bartender while his father kept walking. 

The man she’d called her uncle stepped closer, blocking her view. “Did you get the information, little one?” He asked in a low voice.

She nodded, handing him the device she’d been holding in her purse. “Downloaded from his watch,” she said proudly. 

“Excellent work, Natalia,” the man said with a wicked grin. “I think we may have a place for you yet.”


	2. Secrets

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who else to call” was becoming a staple phone greeting between them. 

Natasha Romanova held her cell up to her ear as if it was the one thing keeping her intact, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

His voice was broken and detached on the other end of the line, and the panic spread throughout her entire body, almost enough to cripple her if only for the realization that the most stubborn, cocky and resilient person she’d ever met was in real trouble. He had to be. This was a man who was able to create a ground-breaking device with limited technology and no access to the outside world as he was trapped in a cave far away from anything he’d ever known to keep his heart pumping against impossible odds. 

And now he was struggling to use his breath to go back on his stubbornness and call the one person who he’d deemed as his absolute last resort, a notion she knew she shouldn’t take lightly.

Her hand shook as she held onto the phone for dear life, trying with everything she had left in her and failing to keep her voice calm and steady while the blood rushed in her ears as she told him to hang on. That she’d be right there, as soon as she could. 

She glanced at the screen at the coordinates he’d texted her after he’d hung up, mentally calculating how long it would take her to find a jet and fly to Siberia and hoping that he could make it that long.

Only once she was steady in the air did she allow herself to reminisce on the last forty-two hours, her green eyes staring through the clouds at something only visible in her thoughts. 

XXXXX

Things had been tense among the Avengers these days. They’d lost people; nameless faces of people they’d tried desperately to protect. Faces that kept popping up on the news.  
Steve had tried to talk to them about sacrifices of war, about making hard decisions and how it was never easy, but that didn’t make it any less necessary. 

They’d lost a couple of their own, too. Thor. The general consensus among the team was that he’d likely gone back to his home realm, although who could be sure when there was no form of contact for the better part of two years? Bruce. Hell if she knew where he was these days. It’s not like he’d given her an explanation for breaking his promise or anything. The young girl’s twin brother, weighing heavy on Clint’s mind. Event Clint himself, though at least she knew he was safe and that was enough to provide some comfort, even though it had taken awhile to get used to not being able to see him every day. 

Things were tense for the ones that were left, only after awhile they’d all stopped talking about it. Just went on with their lives. For Natasha, that meant upholding the legacy she’d chosen. Wanda, Vision, Sam. They needed guidance if they were ever going to find their way on this broken team and she would guide them, with or without Steve’s full attention. Whether she agreed with the path he was pursuing or not. 

She hadn’t factored in an accident of this magnitude into their live field mission training session. Neither one of them had. And she’d been too damn caught up in her own drama to notice Steve’s distraction, how one name had been enough to compromise Captain America. Looking back, she couldn’t really blame him though. Had someone uttered a different name, it might’ve had the same effect on her. 

She’d idly watched the heated discussion between Rhodey and Sam. Listened to Vision’s spewing of statistics. Heard Steve’s logic and reasoning and Tony’s emotional stance hidden behind his ever-present biting sarcasm. “Maybe Tony’s right,” she’d heard herself say. 

She’d tried to ignore the flicker of pain in his eyes, told herself his harsh retort at her declaration was nothing personal, even though she knew damn well that everything was personal with him. Tried not the think about the last time she’d seen him, the look on his face as she’d left his newly rebuilt home in Malibu… 

XXXXX

“I can’t say I’m not surprised that you decided to agree with me on this,” he’d later admitted, holding his head between his hands during a rare moment when it was just the two of them in the conference room, without the Secretary or Rhodey or anyone else who had been coming and going for the last twelve hours. After a few beats of familiar silence, he’d even looked up to where she was standing. “But I am glad that you’re here.” 

That last part was said really low, but she knew he’d meant for her to hear it anyway. She’d walked around the table to where he was sitting, placing her hand over his where it was still resting against his head. “Where else would I be?” she’d wondered out loud, her mind swimming and her heart pounding too swiftly to allow her to articulate anything else.  
“I don’t know,” he’d said, a hint of that sarcasm coming back to his voice, clouding it with a clear tone of accusation. “It was you that broke up with me without a real reason, wasn’t it?” 

XXXXX

She jumped out of the jet almost sooner than she finished landing, the noise from the propellers doing nothing to drown out the blood rushing in her ears as she crouched down to let her legs absorb most of the impact. 

She made her way into the bunker, calling his name in loud whispers even though she wasn’t sure what else she’d find. 

A million mental pictures had been swirling through her mind and her fears on the ride over, but nothing could’ve prepared her for what she found. 

If there was anything she knew in this life, it was what it was like to be made broken and have to glue the jagged shards of your tainted soul back together again, even if the mended pieces resembled something different than before. 

He knew it too, she could see it in his eyes a hundred times before. The fear. The pain. The guilt. 

She felt herself shatter again when she found him shivering and alone, an inch away from his life and his resolve. 

He was lying on the ground, his face bloodied and broken pieces of his armor scattered everywhere. His eyes were closed and he was groaning in pain, a broken sound that she knew would haunt both her days and her nights moving forward. 

She rushed to him, reaching into her back jacket pocket for the first aid kit she’d had the sense to grab from the jet. “Tony,” she cried, kneeling down beside him.  
He opened his eyes when he saw her and struggled to sit up.

She shook her head. “No, don’t move yet,” she said gently. Upon closer inspection, she found that there was damage to his chest piece and her heart dropped to her stomach. “F.R.I.D.A.Y…. what kind of damage is there to the arc reactor?” 

“The arc reactor technology is still fully functioning, although the core is non-operational. Emergency systems have failed, and auxiliary power is at point nine percent.” 

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Can you scan for signs of internal bleeding?” 

“No indication of internal injuries, Ms. Romanoff,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. assured her. 

She nodded, dabbing at his face with cotton and alcohol and he hissed.

“What the hell happened here?” She asked as she cleaned the blood and tears from his face. “Where are Steve and Barnes?” 

“Gone,” he said. He coughed loudly, wincing in pain. “There’s no one here but us.” 

“Good,” she replied. “That gives me a little more time to get you cleaned up before we get out of here. Honestly, the suit’s a little more messed up than I expected.” 

“Yeah, well. A vibranium shield to the chest will do that to you, I suppose.” 

She froze, dropping the cotton on the ground. “Steve did this?” she whispered shakily. 

He nodded, trying to prop himself up against the pile of rubble. 

“So much for legacies, huh?” He muttered as she tried to help him stand. 

He spit on the floor. “This is what our legacy has become. Are you happy now?” 

“No,” she cried. Tried to apologize. Tried to make him see. 

“Nat,” he said, finally looking at her, his brown eyes wounded. 

He placed a hand at the small of her back, half metal, half flesh, all him as he forcefully pushed her in front of a small monitor. 

At first she didn’t understand, but then she covered her mouth with both hands as the video played on a loop. Stark’s parents, she realized. A lifetime of studying the family made her sure she’d recognize any one of them in any context and now here they were. Howard and Maria, murdered on camera. 

She gasped out loud, fell to her knees before him in tears when the killer’s face came into plain sight on the screen, cried with him over the fresh loss of the parents who had been dead for nearly a quarter of a century. 

“He killed my parents,” he whispered brokenly.

She covered her face with both hands as the tears that had been stinging the backs of her eyes started to fall. “No…Tony,” she breathed, reaching out her hand to touch his face. 

“After everything my father did for Captain America, everything he did for this country, it was Bucky Barnes who killed both my parents. That’s irony, right?” A sob escaped his throat. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Tony,” she cried, smoothing his hair back. 

“Did you know?” He asked, his eyes locked on hers. 

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, answering him with another sob.

He started to move and she placed a hand over his chest. “Wait,” she commanded. “We have to make sure you don’t have broken bones or anything before you get up. Can you power down? I need to look at you.” 

He leaned his head back. “I’m naked under the suit,” he said lightly. 

She half-smiled at his efforts. “I- I think I’m okay with that,” she replied. 

“Are you flirting with me, Agent Romanoff?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows as the broken pieces of his armor detached themselves from his body. 

“You flirted with me first, Mr. Stark,” she said, her half-smile turning into a smirk. She ran her hands over his arms, squeezing briefly at his joints. “Is anything broken?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” 

She lifted up his shirt, grateful to find only a few bruises to his torso and she placed her hands over his ribs, holding his sides. “Are you able to breathe comfortably?” 

He inhaled deeply, holding it for a few seconds before letting the breath out through his lungs. 

“It doesn’t look like you have any broken ribs either. How about your legs? Do you think you can stand?” 

“Only one way to find out,” he said, huffing in a breath as he braced his weight on his hands pressing against the ground.

She reached out both hands to try and steady him, but he shrugged away. She gripped him anyway, using most of her strength to pull him up. 

He stood with more effort than he was willing to let her see, but his legs held and she wrapped an arm around his waist, throwing his arm over her shoulder so she could support his weight if he needed her to. 

She nodded to the shield laying on the ground. “What do you want me to do with that?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t care.” 

She hesitated before bending down slightly to pick it up, not letting go of him as she walked him steadily out to the jet.

They rode back to his newly rebuilt home in Malibu at his somewhat sharp request. 

She texted Pepper on the way, trying not to let him see her hands shaking as her thumbs tapped the device.

It wasn’t until they’d landed on the roof of his mansion and she’d gotten him inside that she tried to explain herself. Confess her sins, make him see that she was only trying to do what she could to keep everyone that was important to her safe, hoped it was clear that he was included in that statement. 

“He knew,” Tony told her quietly. “Did you?” 

“Tony-“ she said breathlessly, her eyes red-rimmed and her breath shaky. 

“Just tell me the truth for once,” he said, his voice even, his eyes finally looking at her. “It’s just you and me now, darling. We’re the only ones left. Just tell me the goddamn truth. Did you know?” 

“Steve and I found out on that mission in Washington,” she said slowly, swallowing hard. “Everything was falling apart, and the secret that HYDRA had orchestrated your parents’ deaths came out. We talked about it after. He decided he should be the one to tell you, that it was his duty, or something. I don’t know. At the time I guess it made sense.” 

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never really had reason to believe that he hadn’t disclosed it to you, I- I’m so sorry, Tony. I never meant to betray you. Please believe me.” She wiped at her eyes, tried to keep her voice steady. “This clearly isn’t what I wanted my legacy to be.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, leaned his head back against the couch.

She stood up from her perch in the chair across from him. “Pepper should be here soon,” she said quietly as she watched him carefully.

Just then, the doors to the parlor burst open and Pepper flew to Tony’s side. “Oh my God!” She said when she saw him, her face drooped in an expression they’d both seen many times before and that Natasha had come to learn meant that the woman was clearly at a loss.

“What the hell happened here?!” She asked, a little shrilly. 

“He needs medical attention,” she told the other woman softly. “His team of doctors are on their way here.” 

She figured Pepper was already aware of the reasons why she hadn’t just taken him straight to a hospital when she didn’t ask. Instead she just nodded. “Thank you,” she said in a soft but firm voice.

Natasha slowly turned to go. 

“Hey, I’m not done with you, yet!” Tony called. 

“Hey, Nat?” He said again as he stood.

She turned back, her eyes wide. 

By now the color had started to come back to his face and he’d stopped shivering, at least from the cold. She could see the gears turning in his head behind his eyes and for a moment he was starting to look like himself again. His voice had softened considerably when he called her name, and there it was. The last reluctant scrap he’d throw her as an unwitting and unwilling participant in this unspoken battle between them.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly when he hesitated, saw him shake the vulnerability from his expression. 

“Before I can make an informed decision, I need to know. What other secrets are out there?” 

One corner of her mouth quirked up in a grim smile. She thought for a moment, hesitated, then reached into her pocket, figuring she quite literally had nothing else in this world to lose. 

He frowned as she took a step towards him, pressing a small chip into his hand, both of her hands lingering around his enclosed fingers. “What is this?” He asked gruffly, pulling his hand back.

“Journal entries, videos, audio recordings.” She shrugged as she explained. “You know the rest is out there now, you just have to find it.” 

“The S.H.I.E.L.D. files?” He said, one eyebrow raised doubtfully in an expression that was so him, it made her heart hurt. “They’re encrypted.” 

This time she treated him to a full, albeit dry smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out if you need to.” 

He sniffed, his fingers closing more tightly around the chip. “Yeah, well. They’re still coming for you, so….” 

She nodded, turning on her heels and heading for the door without another word. 

Once she made it safely to the other side, she willed herself to keep walking, to not turn back and to just stay focused on her path to the jet. 

Her resolve was broken by the sound of heels clacking against the marble floor. 

“Natasha!” Pepper called as she nearly chased her down the hall. “Wait!” 

She turned back, her eyes steady on the other woman. “Call Happy,” she said evenly, trying to keep her face expressionless. “And maybe take him to see Rhodey. It will take all of you this time.” 

Pepper nodded, biting her lip. “Where will you go?” 

Natasha shrugged. “Someplace safe.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe you should tell him to head back to the compound, after.”

She shook her head at Pepper’s momentary look of protest. 

“Just… take care of yourself, okay?” The other woman said softly. “And thank you for taking care of him.” 

The only response she could give the woman was to gaze unblinking at her before she turned and ran out of the mansion. 

XXXXX

“Are you sure you want to see what’s in those files?” Pepper asked, her voice nearly a whisper. 

Tony turned to her with wide, vulnerable eyes, not saying anything before he turned back to his holographic monitor. 

“Maybe- maybe some secrets are better left buried,” She choked out, her head leaning against the door. 

He was still silent, his eyes pleading with her as he powered on the machine. 

“Okay,” Pepper said quietly. “I guess I’ll just leave you to it, then.”


	3. Journey To The Past

June 29, 1991 

The young girl peered out the window from the back seat of the small vehicle, pulling her sleeve over her hand to wipe away at the light layer of condensation on the glass. “Where are we going again?” She wondered aloud. 

The man she’d come to know as “uncle” ever since he’d pulled her out of the fire that had killed her parents nearly two years ago looked at her in the rear view mirror. “I have found a special place for you, little one. A place that will make you extraordinary.” 

She pulled on her white furry coat, burrowing inside it and deciding not to ask any more questions. 

It seemed like forever until she felt the car come to a complete stop, jarring her from her sleep in time for her to watch her uncle whispering something in fast Russian to a guard in a booth. The car started again and they were driving through a big black gate. 

“You did good work at the Starks’, Natalia,” her uncle told her, not for the first time, as he crossed the property and pulled into a long driveway. “You have a talent far beyond your years. At this place, you will grow that talent. Learn to be agile, invincible even. You will be a hero to your country, and you will be unstoppable.” 

Her eyes widened as she gazed up at the large building, the biggest building she’d ever seen. 

Her uncle was hasty in his step as he came around to the back of the car to undo her seatbelt and guide her through the door. 

An older woman with a wrinkled face wearing a crisp dark skirt and graying hair pulled back into a tight, neat bun welcomed them on the sidewalk while a few men moved to help her uncle unpack her suitcase from the trunk. 

“But I don’t want to go,” she whispered, tugging lightly on his pants leg. 

The blonde man crouched down in front of her, his big hands gripping her shoulders, his face crinkling into a beaming smile. “It is time, my girl. Your actions thus far have made me proud, and now you will make the whole country proud.” 

He nodded to the older woman, who introduced herself simply as “Agatha”. She reached for the girl’s hand, explaining how she would be better here. “You will learn strength, speed, agility. You will learn all there is to know about advanced technology. You will take all your classes, study any five languages of your choosing and become an expert in your craft. You will have an opportunity to stand out among other girls your age.” 

She perked up at the thought of meeting other girls her age, as she hadn’t really had much experience being around other kids. Not since before the fire, when she was in preschool anyway. Those memories were becoming fuzzier the longer she stayed in private lessons with her uncle. 

“Now I must leave you,” he said in a no nonsense tone.

An overwhelming feeling of panic suddenly came over her, though she thought it was best not to voice it out loud with Agatha and the strange men standing right there. 

“Don’t worry. I will be back in three month’s time to check on your progress.” He smiled, reaching out a hand to touch her face. “You will do great things in this life, Natalia. Of that I am certain.” 

She tried to smile back, but Agatha cut in with a warning that if they didn’t get inside she would be late to her first class, and that lateness would not be tolerated here. She observed the woman’s terse demeanor and stiff body language and it was at that moment that she realized in no uncertain terms that there were many things that would not be tolerated here. 

She shrugged the uneasiness off, turning to say one last goodbye to her uncle before she would walk through the doors, away from everything she had ever known. 

“Do not be afraid, little one,” he said, his fingers tugging on her bright red curls. “Fear is something that others will use against you. You do not want to give anyone anything that they can use against you.”

Then Agatha took her by the hand and he waved encouragingly as she turned her head back to look at him as they walked. She waved back, and Agatha lightly tapped her bottom, telling her it would be in her best interest to always watch in front of her when she walked. 

She kept her eyes trained straight ahead as the woman led her down a long marble hall, high heels clacking on the floor as she ushered her into the depths of the ancient building to a room with heavy black double doors, explaining that this was where she would have her first lesson.


	4. The First Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: From this point forward the story will at times get very dark. Please note the tagged subjects.

August 18, 1993

By the time she’d been there for two years, Natalia had come to learn who among her peers was a strong person and who was not a strong person. 

Oleiana was everyone’s favorite. Whether staff or student, everyone admired her. She was tall, slender, agile and athletic, where many of the younger girls were still awkward. She was patient, intelligent, quick witted, graceful, determined and fast. At twelve years old, just three and a half years older than Natalia herself, the girl was drop dead gorgeous- with long, thick blonde hair that went down to her waist, big piercing blue eyes and full lips. 

Natalia liked Oleiana very much and had come to think of the star pupil as something of a role model and peer mentor. 

But Oleiana was not a strong person. 

One of the things Natalia had come to learn very fast growing up in the Red Room was the concept of consequences and punishment. Every action had a consequence, and every unsatisfactory action or consequence came with punishment. The freshly raised, jagged pink scars peeking out the back of the leotard of the girl in front of you as you practiced your sashays in a group was enough to make anyone dread the sound of a belt being pulled from pants loops and inspire best behavior.

Natalia didn’t much care what happened to her, but she was only nine after all and she hadn’t counted on her superiors coming to the quick realization that perhaps the best way to punish her wasn’t necessarily to give her a lashing….

XXXXX

They’d been practicing with their handguns for a few weeks now, and Natalia was getting quite good at making an accurate shot most of the time if she did say so herself. She didn’t need to say so though, because her superiors were quick to recognize. The only student in the class who was maybe a better shot than Natalia was Oleiana. 

The girls were getting so good in fact, that one day Agatha informed them that they would now be practicing with moving targets. 

Natalia was so excited that she volunteered to go first. 

Then the instructor signaled to his helper and the helper unlatched a small cage, and out came a small rabbit, brown hair on end and whiskers twitching as it pressed its nose to the ground. 

The animal paused for a second, remaining very still as it looked up, it’s tiny beady eyes locking onto Natalia for just a moment before deciding she wasn’t a threat and then going back to exploring its new surroundings. 

Panicked, Natalia looked to Oleiana, her eyes silently searching the other girl’s for any hint at what she should do. 

Oleiana's deep blue eyes were round and tearful and the girl quickly looked away. 

Making a snap decision, Natalia raised her firing arm into the air and gave the trigger a squeeze. The sound was more than enough to scare the rabbit, as well as the thirteen other rabbits that had just had their cages unlatched and send them all scampering away before the instructor and his helper could even stumble after them. 

From that day forward, Natalia would never forget the look of anger on the instructor’s face, the veins bulging at his temples. She would never forget the look of disappointment on Agatha’s face, nor the sound of the instructor’s belt being pulled slowly from his belt loops, almost in slow motion. She would never forget the way he walked past her rigid, defiant frame, nor the blinding glint of the buckle in the sunlight as it waved over the terrified faces of the group of fourteen girls. 

Oleiana’s screams would haunt her dreams for many years to come, and from that day forward, Natalia knew in no uncertain terms that her superiors had figured out that the best way to punish her was not to punish her. The best way to punish Natalia was to punish someone else. 

It was knowledge that would weigh heavy on her heart and her head, no matter how many times Agatha told her that she would have to learn to just let it go. 

Natalia was also smart enough to learn that day that she should never volunteer for something first.

XXXXX

October 1, 1995

Four years into the program and Natalia was beginning to understand what she was training for. Learn the skills, develop the skills, complete the task, master the skills and then would come the graduation ceremony. 

For reasons she couldn’t yet understand, the Red Room had picked fifteen as the age where the girls would complete the task before the graduation ceremony at sixteen, and then would come the Black Widow Program and then they would be going out on assignments. 

Oleiana was the first of the group to turn fifteen and the day after her birthday was to be the day. 

They’d been practicing with their knives that day and they were mid lesson with Agatha when several of the instructors came bounding into the room, hurling a struggling, restrained and gagged man. 

“Ah, yes,” Agatha said with her hand outstretched, beckoning them into the studio. 

The men brought their prisoner to the center of the room and all was still for awhile. 

“Oleiana, if you please,” Agatha called. 

The girl stepped timidly up to the headmistress while one of the instructors read aloud the crimes of the prisoner from a document that he was holding in his hand. 

“You know what must be done,” Agatha said in that no-nonsense tone of hers. “The time has come for you to complete your task.” 

Oleiana was shaking, her big eyes wide, teary and fearful. Her hands were trembling so much that her knife was waving in front of her, even though she was gripping it so hard that the knuckles of her right hand were almost completely white. 

Natalia watched the scene, oblivious to the other girls who had taken their places against the walls. She kept her eyes clear and focused, darting from the headmistress, to the prisoner still struggling against the men holding him, to Oleiana, shaky and unsteady. 

The girl’s lip started to quiver under Agatha’s disapproving gaze. At some point the instructor who had read them the list of crimes was shouting something at her in his booming voice.

Oleiana was sobbing now and when she finally took a quick glance around the room without actually moving her head, Natalia realized that many of the other girls looked almost as scared as Oleiana.

“None of you will leave this room until the task is complete,” Agatha warned, her slitted eyes staring them down. 

Natalia watched as Oleiana took a few unsteady steps forward, turning to face the prisoner who had a smug look on his face despite the gag still in his mouth.

Her sobs echoed through the silent studio as no one else dared to make a sound.

“If this man is not dead within thirty seconds, there will be dire consequences, Oleiana!” Agatha barked. “You all know what you must do.” 

Without stopping to think too hard on it, Natalia took two long steps forward, her right hand sweeping her knife in a firm arc. 

The spray of blood over her hands and face was what jarred her out of her automation. She darted her head up, gazing wordlessly at Agatha and the instructors, all of whom had gone slack-jawed in shock. 

“You said it had to be within thirty seconds,” Natalia said evenly. “You didn’t say it had to be her who did it.” 

No one argued with her statement, although they did take Oleiana away for what they called 'private lessons' after that.


	5. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this story isn't always pretty and to please pay attention to the tags and read at your own risk for anything that might trigger you.

In the days and weeks following her first kill, Natalia’s thoughts were plagued with worry over the fate of her friend. While the rest of the girls still trained together, Oleiana was in private lessons more often than not. It couldn’t be a good thing that they were taking her away, and she was sure at least some of the lessons were filled with punishment more severe than any of the girls had ever known. 

Sometimes she would see Oleiana returned to their room at night, hours after classes and training had ended and the girls were supposed to be asleep. 

Of course Natalia was sleeping less and less these days. The image of the wide eyed look of shock on the criminal’s face as he slumped over taking his last breaths was permanently burned into her eyes, the spray of his blood embedded into her skin. Most nights, she would lie awake staring at the ceiling for fear that otherwise her unconscious screams would awaken her instructors and bring lessons of unbearable consequences to the younger girls. 

So she would always turn her gaze upon Oleiana to study her as the older girl snuck back into the bedroom after hours without turning on the lights. 

The girl who had once been the unspoken leader of the group was now quiet and timid during the few sessions she spent with them. Her eyes had taken on a hardened expression that no one else could understand. 

Though she often thought that the silence was worse for everyone else than actually knowing what went on, Oleiana never spoke of what took place during her private lessons and though she had a very active imagination and had come to understand certain horrors in a way that the other girls hadn’t yet, Natalia knew better than to ask her to tell. 

XXXXX

May 30, 1999 

When she was fifteen, rumors had started circulating amongst the girls of what the graduation ceremony entailed. None could be totally sure, since when a girl turned sixteen, as long as she had completed her lessons and training satisfactorily, she went through the ceremony and was shipped across the country to begin the Black Widow Program before becoming a full-fledged operative. 

Oleiana was the sole exception to the rule. Nearly three years after her own graduation ceremony, she was still training with the group and attending her private lessons. Natalia thought it was lucky that the higher ups were so fond of her, as she had never heard of someone failing out of the Red Room and wondered where she would go had Agatha and the instructors deemed her not eligible for the Black Widow program. So Oleiana stayed, despite the fact that it was determined that she was not ready to be moved to the next level after her graduation and despite the fact that she was now approaching nineteen years of age.

Natalia hadn’t spoken to Oleiana much since she’d completed the other girl’s task, but apparently she was speaking to others, as fearful whispers of graduation could be heard in between training sessions and during scheduled meals.

“Is it true?” She asked Oleiana one night, when it was just the two of them in the bedroom they shared with two other girls. 

“Yes,” Oleiana told her simply, explaining in clear terms what “making one sterile” meant. 

“Then my efforts will now be unsatisfactory,” Natalia determined out loud. 

Oleiana told her there was no way out, no escape from the fate that had been assigned to them years ago, but Natalia figured she would let her performance decline slowly, not all at once so as not to raise any suspicions. 

She should have known that Agatha would be the first to notice, would pull her into an empty classroom and lecture her on the dangers to herself and to the other girls should she continue to choose to not get her act together. 

A year before her own graduation ceremony, and Natalia was left with a year to worry about it.

XXXXX

June 13, 1999 

Nikolai was an agent the Red Room had brought in to help train the girls for the next step. It was a treat to have him here, they’d said, on account of their excellent development and progress. 

Oleiana whispered to Natalia one day as she stood behind her in class that she wondered how delicious was this treat, then giggled after.

Natalia cocked her head, squinting at Nikolai as he walked the room with his hands clapsed behind his back, observing and offering words of encouragement. He was tall, lean and muscular, with a mop of slightly overgrown rust-colored hair on top of his head and pale blue eyes framed by light rust-colored lashes underneath thick eyebrows. 

“He’s nearly ten years older than you,” Natalia pointed out with a teasing smirk on her lips. 

“So what?” Oleiana said, retorting back that if this was ancient times, they’d already be married and have kids. It had just slipped out of her mouth during their playful banter before that dead look returned to haunt her eyes. 

“Ew, gross. He’s almost thirty,” she whispered over her shoulder in attempt to bring the light-heartedness back. 

Her effort worked as much as it was going to, as Oleiana rolled her eyes dramatically. “Whatever. He’s still hot,” she whispered back. 

Natalia turned her head to sneak another glance at Nikolai. She admitted out loud that she guessed she could see why her friend found him so attractive. Still, she supposed that if she herself was going to have a crush on an older man, it would be someone far away from here. Someone with darker hair, darker eyes and thicker eyelashes. 

XXXXX

June 22, 1999

“Excellent form, Natalia,” Agatha said approvingly as she sank down low, back straight and knees bending perfectly as she swept her arm down daintily in a graceful plie. “And it’s nice to have you back,” she added with a knowing wink. 

She forced a polite smile as she transitioned into her next move on the barre without saying anything back. 

“I’m sure your uncle will be pleased to see your progression.” 

Her attention drifted away from the recorded piano music and she looked up to find Mikhail standing in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets as he gazed at her adoringly. 

Over the years, his visits had become fewer and further in between, but even so she was still pleased to see him and delighted inwardly every time he gave his approval. 

Agatha nodded to her, giving her permission and she walked over to him with outstretched arms. 

“Hello, uncle,” she greeted him with a brief hug around his neck. 

“My Natalia,” he said reverently. “You grow more and more beautiful and talented with each passing day.” 

Agatha joined them, closing the door to the studio behind her while the other girls were still dancing. “It’s true,” she agreed. “And now it’s time for you to learn another lesson.”  
Her gaze darted between them with a question in her eyes. 

“You are becoming a woman,” Mikhail continued, raising his hand and placing it on her cheek as he tilted her head back. “As is evident in the narrowing of your waist and the widening of your hips.” 

He trailed his hand along her jaw and down her neck, cupped her right breast and squeezed it. “As well as other…. perkier developments.” 

She kept her back rigid, her jaw tense and her eyes neutral as his thumb glided over her nipple through the thin fabric of her leotard. 

“You must learn to use that to your advantage,” he added, the expression in his eyes taking on a darker tone. 

Agatha placed an arm around her shoulders, ushering her down the hall and into another room, explaining how men often thought more with a head that was not sitting on their shoulders while her uncle nodded in agreement. 

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Nikolai in the center of the small training room. 

“We will teach you everything you need to know about how men really think,” Agatha said. 

Mikhail gently placed his hands on each of her shoulders as he stood behind her, applying just enough pressure to encourage her to kneel on the floor while Nikolai slowly unzipped his pants. 

XXXXX

June 28, 2000

Now sixteen, Natalia woke slowly from a night of mostly no sleep on the morning of her graduation. 

Oleiana looked at her with sympathetic eyes, reminding her in a gentle voice that there was no way around it and the situation would turn worse for her if she chose to resist it.

She let them strap her down to the gurney, though her eyes remained defiant as they rolled her down the hall to the elevator and rode all the way down to an underground floor where the operation would take place. 

She didn’t know why she cried alone in her room that night after Oleiana had pressured the other girls out of the room, urging them to give her some space. 

Maybe it was the notion that in the morning she would leave this place, all the girls and everything she had ever known growing up. Maybe it was the uncertainty of what would come next. 

But as a single tear slipped down her cheek as she gazed into the mirror, searching for recognition in the eyes of the reflection staring back at her, she knew that wasn’t it. And for the first time, she truly hated the man she'd always called uncle for bringing her to this place.

At sixteen years of age, Natalia had never once considered the possibility of bearing a child. It certainly wasn’t something she’d wanted now, and she was unsure if it would ever be something that she wanted. Still, she grieved with the heaviness upon her heart for the choice that had been taken away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the past few chapters have been pretty heavy and dark, but the story, no matter how unpleasant must be told. Thank you for those who are still with me, though I can certainly understand if some have chosen to stop reading.


	6. The Second Deception

April 17, 2001

She stood in the bathroom of the cheap American hotel room they’d been put up in, bent over the cracked vanity with a makeup brush in her hand as she stared into the mirror. 

Not yet eighteen, she’d picked up on many tricks with cosmetics and knew how to make herself appear years older. 

“Here, throw this on,” Nikolai said, barely looking up from his cell phone as he tossed her a platinum wig without entering the tiny room. 

She frowned. “My character for this mission is not blonde,” she insisted. 

Nikolai rolled his eyes. “Maybe your character dyes her hair,” he retorted. “My associate tells me that Stark prefers blondes.” 

Her eyes narrowed as she raised the wig up in distaste. It was far from the first assignment she’d been on since entering the Black Widow Program and while she certainly knew how to make herself blend in as a spy and operative, she was beginning to think she was being typecast. 

The mission was simple: distract the thirty-one year old CEO of the weapons manufacturing company while Nikolai made an illegal under-the-table deal with his associate.  
Though she wouldn’t dare say anything to her superiors, Natalia had no trouble at all complaining to her sometimes partner and anyone else who would listen that she longed for meatier assignments and that she had no doubt in her abilities to handle them. 

“The meat will come,” Nikolai had assured her. “Let’s get these blueprints now, and perhaps soon you will get to use the weapons we will make with them. You are only a year into this program, after all.” 

She continued to glare at the wig as she tugged her dress into place, this one much more revealing than the one she’d worn years ago when she’d first encountered their current target. 

She’d spent the last two weeks reading news articles and watching videos as she got herself reacquainted with the American, even had some magazine clippings taped to her mirror at home. She wasn’t fool enough to think he would be the same as she remembered every time she took a lick of pistachio ice cream. The boy had lost his parents to a car accident shortly after that night at his family’s mansion and had to grow up fairly quickly in order to keep his parents’ fortune and take his rightful place as head of the business. Though from what she understood, the term “grow up” was to be translated fairly loosely as he still engaged himself in public scandals and indulged in simple pleasures, much to the indignation of the man who sat beside him. Typical American bourgeois behavior. 

She’d grinned while reading some of the stories in the magazines, fully understanding his urge to rebel. 

After spending two weeks in hardcore preparation, she was sure she understood what she needed to know about him during the past decade in order to successfully complete this mission.

She’d also spent the last eight days helping Nikolai with his English, as she’d been speaking it since she was a child but he’d only just started studying the language a few months ago. 

“Out of the two of us, which one of us already has experience dealing with him?” Natalia said, raising an eyebrow. 

Nikolai scoffed. “You were a little girl back then, Natalia. What makes you think that encounter would leave you with any clue as to what type of women Stark wants to have sex with?” 

“Well, according to the tabloids in America, Stark wants to have sex with any attractive woman who could stand up straight,” she pointed out.

Nikolai didn’t disagree with her, but he did insist that she wear the wig. 

“Whatever,” she said, gathering up her long red curls and piling them under a wig cap. “If you really wanted a blonde, perhaps you should have taken Oleiana along,” she added just to see his reaction, but of course he gave her none. 

Instead, he glanced at her appreciatively when she stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed and made up. “I’ve no doubt that the man will be preoccupied by your beauty,” he told her. 

She shrugged. “Stark is a buffoon. He’s easily distracted. This will be a simple task.” 

He shook his head. “Do not underestimate him. And do not get too cocky. The boy is a genius and even though he seems carefree, he undoubtedly sees more than you would give him credit for. I would not want to switch places with you.” 

She found it mildly irritating that Nikolai kept referring to Stark as “boy” when they were practically the same age, both nearly twice as old as she, yet she smiled to herself at the thought of Nikolai being the one to distract him, letting him take her arm as they stepped outside and into the car that would take them to the gala. 

XXXXX

The building was massive, and even though she’d only been to Los Angeles once in her entire life, she wasn’t surprised at the flashiness of the location of an event of this caliber.  
Photographers snapped photos overzealously and the camera flashes made it seem as though lightning were striking their surroundings and for a moment she was glad that she was in disguise, knowing there was no way she could be identified. 

Once inside, they scanned the room. 

“I think I see Stane,” Nikolai said, bending close to speak conspiratorially into her ear. “You go find the Stark boy. And give me as long as I need.” 

She nodded, quickly spotting her target on the other side of the room, making a scene of course, surrounded by women in expensive dresses. A burly man stood close by with a stern expression on his face, feigning indifference at Stark’s antics. 

Crap. It might be harder to get him alone than she’d initially figured. She would have to use all the techniques she knew. 

She slowly made her way across the floor before stopping within his line of sight, her right hip jutting out, seductively showing off the slit in her dress and she raised her head to look up at him as he came toward her with a woman on either arm, the burly man following closely behind. 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, tilting his head to gaze at her over the top rim of his dark glasses. 

He looked different than the last time she’d seen him, though something about him was also the same. His dark brown hair was slicked back and he’d grown a mustache and goatee, both neatly trimmed to perfection framing his mouth. While his face was slightly longer, he moved with the same confident swagger and she was certain he was wearing dark glasses indoors to hide how intoxicated he must be already, though the night had just started. 

The women on either side of him turned their noses up at the sight of her, clearly annoyed at the interruption. One had blonde hair and big fake eyelashes, the other was brunette with big fake boobs. 

“You,” He called to her, much to the disappointment of the other girls who had obviously thought they’d had this cinched. “What’s your name, honey?” 

She smiled demurely, batting her eyelashes a little. “Nancy,” she said sweetly. 

He disengaged himself from the two women’s grasps, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Tony,” he introduced himself, bending down slightly to kiss her knuckles, his eyes trained on hers from behind the tinted lenses. 

The two women were doing nothing to hide their irritation with her. Too bad. She didn’t share. Fake Eyelashes stalked off in a huff, and Big Boobs glared at her before following shortly after. 

“We’ve actually met before,” she told him, sighing inwardly with relief once they were gone. She could already smell the alcohol on his breath and she thought that her earlier assessment was correct. 

“No way. I would’ve remembered you.” 

She didn’t think he was too far off from not remembering his own name, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she smiled wide. “It was ten years ago. I was a little smaller then, and probably looked quite different to you.”

He raised his hand to his chin, lightly stroked his goatee once before removing his glasses and placing them in his pocket. “I see. And how about now? Am I going to get in any legal trouble if we hang out?” 

She shook her head. 

His expression brightened noticeably, some of the coolness melting as he flashed her a billion dollar smile. “In that case, do you want to go get some air?” 

She placed a hand over her heart and smiled back shyly, lowering her head and willing herself to blush. “You flatter me, Mr. Stark.” 

“I’ll do a lot more than that if you allow me to take you outside,” he promised, his perfectly white teeth still showing as he winked at her. 

She nodded and he stepped beside her, placing a hand at the small of her back. “Come on. I’ll get you a drink first. What are you having?”

“Um, vodka martini, dry with a twist?” 

He led her over to the bar, signaled to the bar tender who dropped everything when he saw who it was and ordered the same for himself. 

His bodyguard was still close by and she craned her neck, looking over his head to see if she could spot Nikolai, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Stark dropped a handful of bills on the bar. “What, him?” he asked, misunderstanding what she was looking for. “He’s fine. He won’t bother us,” he promised. 

She let him take her hand and he eagerly tugged her to a set of double doors. 

“Do you mind?” He asked his bodyguard as he ushered her through the doors onto a balcony. 

The man remained stone faced, but he obediently stood on the other side while Stark closed the doors. 

“Privacy, at last,” he muttered, turning to face her. 

She took in her unexpected surroundings, gazing at the walls on either side of them enclosing the private balcony space and over the railing where she could tell that the photographers were still clicking away on the ground under them. 

Faint music from the gala drifted through, although it was mostly quiet. 

“Must be a difficult life to navigate, Mr. Stark,” she said idly. 

“It’s Tony,” he said, still looking her up and down. “And believe me, it has it perks.” 

He wasted no time, stepping in front of her and taking her drink from her, placing both glasses down and reaching out a hand to place under her chin. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and licked her lips, knowing full well how to draw him in. She was a Black Widow after all.

In a second, he had brought his lips to hers, kissing her lightly at first and then more insistently when she didn’t resist. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back, tasting the whiskey strong on his tongue as if she’d been drinking it herself, with only a faint hint of the vodka he’d only taken a couple of sips of. 

He placed his hands firmly on her waist, his tongue devouring her mouth and she leaned into him, backing him up into the wall. 

He didn’t protest, pulling her closer as she invaded his personal space, running her hands through his hair and breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne. 

She tugged on the collar of his dress shirt, ran her hands briefly down his chest before untucking the shirt from his pants. He lowered his mouth down her neck, smiling at her soft gasp of “Oh, Tony” as she closed her eyes. 

His hands were getting frisky as they kissed, a little clumsy but also firm and sure as he groped over her dress. 

He let her push her hands up under his clothes, his own hands slowly moving down until he was squeezing her bottom and she wondered briefly how far she would have to let this go before Nikolai got what he needed. 

“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured as they continued to kiss heatedly. 

He wasn’t a bad kisser, and this would probably even be enjoyable to her if he wasn’t so drunk. But all things considered, this definitely wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever had to do to distract a target. 

She broke the contact between their mouths before she could get too distracted by him, lowering her head to suck on his neck, her hands still tugging on his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp.

If his heavy breathing was any indication, she’d have no trouble keeping him separated from his people for as long as Nikolai needed to close the deal. 

She hadn’t counted on any interruptions though and she nearly panicked when she heard a loud rapping coming from the other side of the door. 

A second later, a group of people stormed through with a young, dark-skinned man leading the way. 

“Tony,” he said with a reprimanding tone. 

“Uh, hello? Can’t you see I’m busy right now, honeybear? Sorta got my hands full here,” he complained, smiling apologetically in her direction. 

“Later,” the man, who she now saw was dressed in military formal said. “This is your charity, isn’t it? It’s time for your speech.” 

A tall woman with strawberry blonde hair and an even, no-nonsense expression stepped between them, wiping the lipstick marks from his neck with a handkerchief, patting his hair back into place and straightening his tie with a practiced, business-like ease while he protested in a whiny voice the whole time. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, briefly squeezing her arm. “Duty calls. But I want to talk to you later.” 

She nodded with a bright smile, though inwardly she still felt slightly panicked as she quickly scrawled a telephone number on a card and handed it to him, knowing that this wasn’t part of the plan and mentally calculating how she was going to get back on track.

“Mmmmm….” he said hesitantly, and the woman took the card from her with a cluck of her tongue and a slight roll of her eyes before tucking it into his jacket pocket. 

“You should come watch my speech,” he called as the small group of people pushed him through the double doors and she relaxed a little, thinking that if she went with him at least she could keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t get in her partner’s way. 

She followed a bit behind the group as the bodyguard rejoined them, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of Nikolai. 

She caught him motioning to her from the other side of the room, but she tilted her head towards the stage, where the crowd was now going wild as Stark appeared to address them. 

He grudgingly started to make his way over to her, but she kept her attention on Tony, pressing her lips together as she took in his sloppy stance and slurred words. 

He may have been a genius, but the guy was an idiot. And clearly he hadn’t meant it when he said he’d call her, but as his eyes caught hers in the crowd and his face lit up, a small part of her wondered if he would’ve made an exception for her had she not given him a fake phone number. 

Nikolai nudged her when he finally approached, nodding up at Stane, who had just clapped a hand loudly on Tony’s back and grabbed the microphone from him. 

“Such a dark man,” Natalia said with a shudder. “I don’t know how you deal with him.”

Nikolai shrugged. “Everyone has a darkness inside them, Natalia. Even the Stark boy. Maybe especially the Stark boy.” 

She turned her attention from the stage to regard her companion. “Did you get what you needed?” 

He nodded. “Thanks to you. Well done, Natalia.” 

Her eyes moved back to the corner of the stage, where Stane and the bodyguard were helping Stark down the few stairs. 

“It was almost too easy,” she said, remembering the feeling of his lips pressed against hers.


	7. It Starts With A Chill

December 30, 2003 

They called him the Winter Soldier. He was brought in from Siberia to enhance the training on the Black Widow Program over the course of two weeks. 

That’s what Natalia liked the most about being a Black Widow- in addition to getting out into the world on her own, there was always the chance to hone and develop the skills required to make her a good asset. 

She knew this would be different from the first day with this new guy. He was different. She’d heard the stories, whispers of where he’d come from and just how long he’d been around, but on the one hand she wasn’t sure she believed them. 

For one thing, in order for him to have been operating in the shadows for almost six decades, he’d have to be pushing ninety. The soldier currently standing in front of the long line of young women looked like he couldn’t have been much older than she was. 

Sure, he was tall, lean and fairly muscular, but in the back of her mind she knew she’d taken down men much more powerful than he appeared in his unassuming manner, and more often than not she’d done it single-handedly. 

On the other hand, he was absolutely terrifying. His harsh, icy blue eyes were cold and distant, and somehow always remained eerily disconnected. His jaw never moved from its stiff, emotionless square set. Long, slightly wavy brown locks hung past his chin and blew in the wind, but if it bothered him when several unruly strands wound up in his face, he never showed it. 

Natalia had trained all her life to master the ability of masking her own emotions, but she’d always been very observant, very in tune with other people’s tells and could always pick up on the smallest hints into what a person was thinking or feeling. This guy, with his blank stares and monotonous inflection gave her absolutely nothing. 

Though his Russian pronunciation was flawless, there was something strangely off about his accent, almost as if it wasn’t his first language, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t place it. She had heard that he spoke nine languages fluently, two more than her seven. 

She’d also heard that he was an expert marksman and had unmatched skill in all sorts of weaponry, but perhaps the most frightening thing about him was his left arm. She wasn’t sure what type of metal it was made of, but she knew with just a glance that it was capable of breaking and crushing a practically unlimited variety of matter- including, she was certain, human bones. 

It was snowing on that first day, his icy glare almost invisible through the thick flakes and steady downpour. A chill ran cold down her spine as he spoke to them in an even and unwavering tone about how everything around them could be used as a weapon, though she swallowed it down and met his gaze without faltering when it was her turn to go up against him. 

As soon as the ice-cold grip of his metal fingers wrapped around her neck, she knew beyond a doubt that every impossible legend she’d heard about him was true. They may have been engaged in a training exercise, but certainly he would not hold back and she needed to fight defense as if her life depended on it, because surely it did. 

Though she couldn’t find an immediate weakness, she was determined not to panic. She was careful not to gasp too forcefully for air or move her head at the risk of her trachea being crushed. Instead, she used a common tactic, jumping down with both of her feet coming down on the steel tip of his left boot at the same time she jabbed her elbow into his protected chest, sending a stinging jolt through her own arm but causing the slightest of involuntary movement within him that it was enough to send her leaping through the air.

She twisted her body to face him, wrapping her thighs around his head, locking her legs at her crossed ankles and turning her momentum to pull him down into her own death grip, a little move that she had perfected over the years into something of her signature. 

“Well done, Natalia,” Nikolai called over the wail of the storm and the other girls clapped. 

The soldier met her eyes once they’d both stood up straight and bowed his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement. 

She couldn’t help noticing that he was indeed holding back when he went up against the other Widows and she grinned in self-satisfaction, though the stab of fear at the realness of it all was still settled in her gut.

XXXXX

She’d been brought up to fear nothing, and when she did fear something she knew she must not show it, lest it be used against her. This had been drilled into her since she was a small child, and tonight she would deal with her fear by facing it head on. 

She was probably a fool for spying against her training, for figuring out where his temporary quarters were. For sure he would have more weapons hidden inside his mattress than what little she had brought for herself in favor of flaunting other assets, and who knew what surveillances were guarding him in addition to the ones she’d just disabled. 

He was nowhere to be found in the small living space, she’d made sure of that before she’d made her move. She could hear the full force of the shower behind the closed door, make out the small sliver of light that showed under the crack of the door in the otherwise darkened room. 

She pulled her robe tighter around her, her heart pounding in her ears and her stomach dropping almost to her trembling knees when she heard the faucet turn off. 

Her ears pricked, but seconds dragged into a full, long minute without hearing any other sounds and then the door suddenly opened wide, the fluorescent light of the steamy bathroom illuminating the room she was standing up straight in despite her every nerve jumping in conflicting directions. 

He emerged slowly, fat droplets of water dripping from his hair and cascading down his slick chest and fading into the plain white towel tied around his waist. 

His expression was as stern as it had been during the day in training, but so far he’d made no move to attack even though he must’ve known before this moment that she had invaded his space. 

“You already know you were the best in the class, a fact they told me before I arrived here,” he said, his voice softer, but no less menacing. “Have you come for more praise, or are you fool enough to think you can kill me?” 

She stared back at him, determined not to drop her eyes from his gaze. 

He stepped off the tile and onto the hardwood floor in front of her. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his tone a clear warning. 

She swallowed thickly, then wordlessly dropped her robe to the floor. 

His eyes traveled over her naked body, her skin pale and creamy in the artificial light. 

Before she could even blink he’d advanced, his metal hand cupping her face and pushing her head back while his flesh and blood hand took hold of her waist. 

Hard fingers combed through her hair as their lips met in a searing kiss and he backed her up against the door, his body pressed against hers as he took the advantage she’d consciously given him. 

A muscular thigh slipped between her legs, pushing her knees apart and she gasped as his skin brushed purposefully against her center. 

He yanked her head back by the metal hand that was still entangled in her hair, his lips grazing against her throat and she grinned wickedly as she reached both hands between them, swiftly unknotting the wet towel that was wrapped around his waist and sending it falling to the floor.


	8. And It Ends On Ice

January 5, 2004

Long before her current training, Natalia had already learned what the solider was drilling into them day after day: everything around you was a weapon and it was up to you to harness it. Ever since that first day when her uncle had pushed her to knees, she had learned that sex was a weapon and by now she’d become very, very good at wielding it.  


During her current training, she was also learning something she hadn’t known before: that sex was something she could really, really enjoy. Especially with the Winter Soldier crawling through her bedroom window every night. 

She never had to go to him, not since the first night when she’d faced her fear head on. No, he came to her. He’d kick her ass all day in front of her superiors and treat her indifferently, just like all the other girls, but the nights were different. And by the sixth one, it was often enough that she knew he wasn’t going to anyone else. 

“It’s been torture waiting for this moment,” he said, always in Russian, always in that strange accent as he landed on his feet without making a sound. 

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” she replied, engaging in a now familiar dance. 

“I will always come for you,” he said, his harsh expression softening, his voice low as his lips and hands claimed her, gliding over the thin fabric of her near see through night gown. 

His hair was soft in her hands, slightly wet from the fresh snowfall outside and his mouth felt cold to the touch, but she had a few ideas on how to warm him up…. 

He grunted lustfully as her fingers tugged through his long brown locks, nails deliberately scratching his scalp as their tongues met in a passionate duel. 

His hands made an interesting contrast as they gripped her hips, one soft yet firm and purposeful , the other hard and smooth, though both were equally as strong in their grasp on her body. 

“Natalia,” he groaned as she looped her fingers through his belt loops, tugging him closer. 

His lips sought out her neck, his metal hand found its way inside her night gown and she hissed at the sudden cold, her nipples hardening instantly before he even groped her breast. 

“What’s your name?” she whispered breathlessly. 

He hesitated, his eyes going slightly wide, his teeth trapping his bottom lip as he took a moment to consider. His brow furrowed as he chewed on the question in confusion. As if he’d never had to speak it out loud before. As if no one had ever cared to ask. As if it was something he’d never dared to admit. 

She felt a little foolish that she’d waited until the sixth night of their uninterrupted affair to ask, but if he didn’t want to tell her, then she supposed it didn’t matter. She shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling, her arms locking around his neck, body pressing into his, bare thigh sliding up the rough fabric of his dark jeans as she attempted to make him forget the boundary she’d knowingly tried to cross. 

His metal hand caught her leg while his flesh and blood hand held her waist steady, the hard thumb stroking the inside of her thigh in a way that made her silk panties damp. 

“James,” he said finally before backing her up against the bed, laying her down on the mattress and lifting the skirt of her night gown. 

Her heart already pounding in her ears, stomach tightening with the realization of the weight of what he’d just revealed to her and the knowledge that he’d never spoken it out loud to another person before she caught on to his intentions. 

Then he pushed her knees apart, kissed up and down the insides of her thighs, slid her panties down and ducked his head, teaching her for the first time the true pleasures of a man’s tongue and she was glad that he’d shared his name with her because she couldn’t help screaming it over and over into the darkness. 

XXXXX

In the daytime he was the Winter Soldier, cunning and fierce, his cold, dead eyes unblinking as he monotonously spat instructions and gave unrelenting demonstrations. 

But by nightfall, he was James, her James, and there was a sparkle in his blue eyes that hadn’t been there before, a hint of mischief that was more emotion than she’d ever seen him give, a promising grin of what was to come. 

She reveled in the feeling of his strong, unbalanced arms around her, the tickle of his stubble on her skin as he kissed her neck, the tangle of metallic fingers in her hair and his heavy breaths on her face as they kissed hungrily, always in the night, always with the lights turned off. 

Clothing was discarded in thoughtless heaps on the wooden floor, hands grasped for bare flesh to caress and soft moans were uttered. 

Her hand was exploring inside his unzipped pants, her mouth was sucking wet, sloppy kisses on his neck and chest and it was obvious that she had his interest. 

He grunted softly, his hands on her shoulders, sliding thin straps down her arms before his metal hand came back to gently press down on her right shoulder, making it clear what he wanted. 

“No,” she said firmly, her affirmation a clear contrast against her wandering mouth on his chest. “I kneel down to no one,” she clarified, her green eyes looking him straight on. 

“Fair enough,” he said, relaxing his grip on her shoulder. 

Her eyes still locked on his, she drew him into the bed with her, tugging his pants down his legs and bending over him to give him what he wanted. 

She’d mastered the use of this weapon years ago, the slide of her tongue and the pull of her lips to use as her advantage to get what she needed. Somehow during the course of a week, the power had shifted, she had let her guard down and now her mouth was wrapped around the cock of an extremely gorgeous and deadly man. A man she wanted just because she wanted him. 

But skills were skills and she still knew how to use them, even if she rarely used them to completion these days. And as she continued to suck greedily in her newfound freedom, his metal hand clawed the bed sheets beside her until there was nothing but shredded cotton and loose feathers. 

XXXXX

January 14, 2004 

The last day of the Winter Soldier’s instruction had come and gone and tonight was to be their last night together. Neither one of them knew where he would be stationed next and it was likely that he wouldn’t even find out until the morning, after he would have disappeared unseen into the pre-dawn shadows, leaving her bed colder than the winds of that first storm. 

She had told herself not to get attached, that their tryst had a two week expiration date on it anyway. She’d warned herself not the make the mistake of thinking he was anything more than deadly, that his soft smiles and sparkling blue eyes were anything but a ruse .Even on the nights when he was downright playful, laughing as he searched for her between the layers of sheets, following the outline of her body and smiling with victory when he pulled away the covers to uncover her naked form. And yet somehow, it had been more than fear than tingled in her belly. 

“I will never forget you, Natalia,” he promised her, pressing a soft kiss into her bare shoulder while his metal fingers lazily stroked her arm after a purposefully drawn out and satisfying session. 

She burrowed into him, pressing her back into his chest and letting him wrap her in a tight cocoon of metal, sheets, and flesh. 

She sighed contentedly, shifting her hips so her ass brushed against his hip, figuring if this truly was to be their last night, they better make it count. 

“Vixen,” he murmured teasingly, his mouth coming to pull on her earlobe as he lowered his hand down her body. His metal hand. 

Her eyes shot open and her body tensed as she hissed at the sudden cool on her bare skin beneath the warm blankets. “That one’s cold,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he said, his fingers teasing at the waistband of her underwear. “But you might like this one better.” 

She groaned as he slipped both of his hands into her panties, touching her intimately. She was already wet for him, a fact that he was pleased by and he quickly moved his right hand out to reach up and cup her breasts, leaving his left to explore. His hard fingers pushed into her, the smooth surface pleasurable against her soft skin, the cold a deliciously arousing feeling. It turned out he was just as adept at fingering her with his metal hand as the right hand and it wasn’t long before she was crying out. 

“I don’t want you to go,” she admitted softly as she rolled over onto her back and tangled her fingers in his hair. 

“Then I won’t,” he said, leaning down to kiss her as fiercely as that first night two weeks ago. 

“But our time is up,” she said. 

“We are KGB assets,” he replied with a wicked grin. “We keep many secrets.” 

She grinned back as his lips claimed hers again. 

XXXXX

February 29, 2004

She laughed as they splashed each other in the pool of the hotel they’d checked into that night. 

As much as she’d enjoyed the comfortable routine of having the Winter Soldier crawl through her bedroom window every night, they knew that after their two weeks were up and he’d been reassigned that it was too risky for him to stay close by. So they’d taken to staying in hotels, always a different one in a different town in the months after he’d officially left the training facility. 

Here, they could be whoever they wanted to be. As she adjusted the straps of her red bikini after she’d fallen off of his shoulders in a clumsy, giggling tumble, she thought that they could be almost normal. It was after hours and the lifeguard and other guests were long gone, but she thought that if anyone had been around to see them splashing about, they’d think they were just a normal couple on vacation, enjoying each other’s company. 

How silly she was to ever think they could be something even remotely close to normal. 

His lips were wet and she vaguely tasted chlorine as he kissed her. She had just started to shiver and he had just suggested that maybe they should take this to a cozier place when it happened. 

The agents stormed the area loudly as they leaped over the fence and jumped into the pool, six pairs of strong hands ripping them apart, although a moment later it would take eight pairs just to struggle under the water with him alone. 

They had guns concealed close by, of course, but Natalia knew by now that everything surrounding her was a weapon and she held her own against a couple of familiar faces with several pool floats at her immediate disposal. 

A few members of the hotel security staff had rushed to the area ready to subdue them, then sank to their knees with their hands in the air once they realized what was taking place.

In the end it was his commanding officer, Vasily Karpov who screamed at him as he swatted the back of his head. 

“She is not yours!” He shouted. “She does not belong to you.” 

In all her life, it had never been more glaring than now that she didn’t belong to herself, either. 

The man hastily uttered ten words that seemed to have nothing to do with each other, or the situation at hand and she gasped, her hand going to her mouth as he immediately fell to the slick concrete floor. 

Several agents attempted to drag her away, but somehow she managed to escape their grasp and she followed Karpov and the soldier to a facility in Siberia, where she hid herself in the shadows and behind walls as she tried to register the location. 

By the time they’d reached the facility, James had seemingly come to and was resisting the attempts of the other agents to restrain him. 

Karpov muttered some instructions to one of his assistants and she looked on in terror, feeling the crushing weight of helplessness as they tortured him with jolts of electricity before her eyes. 

Her hands covered her face as they pushed the still struggling soldier into a chamber and she was horrified to see the blasts of white frost shooting from three wide hoses inside. 

His screams were near unintelligible, but she did manage to recognize her name a few times. 

Relying only on instinct as she had nothing in her years of experience and training to draw from, she fled from the room, running down the hall and out of the facility as fast as her shocked legs would carry her. 

She kept running past the gate, out into the snow and still ran even when it became evident that others were pursuing her. 

Of course they caught up to her, but she thought she put up a good fight. 

Her teary eyes saw nothing as they dragged her back to her camp, save for the images of his haunting screams as they put him on ice that would replay in her dreams at night, a white contrast to the red blood that already plagued her nights. 

XXXXX

“You are a fool for getting mixed up with him in the first place, my Natalia,” Mikhail said to her later on as he set a steaming mug of hot chocolate down on the table in front of her.

Her body was still store and aching with the after effects of her punishment for her attempt at running away and her eyes were still teary and un-seeing as she sat staring at the wall. 

“What, did you think he was in love with you? Were you in love with him?” 

“Of course not, uncle,” she said, her tone void of emotion. “Love is for children.”


	9. Interlude

July 19, 2007

Tony Stark was missing. 

She’d gotten an automated alert on her phone a full hour before she saw it on television in the tiny apartment she’d been renting several communities over from where she’d had her last visit with Mikhail after the one and only time she’d ever tried to run away. 

Apparently losing Stark was news enough to travel overseas and be a big deal since it was all anyone was talking about anywhere she went. 

The American billionaire had been giving a weapons demonstration to U.S. troops in Kunar when an unauthorized missile exploded near the vehicle that was transporting him back to his jet. At least that was the official story that was plastered all over media across the entire globe. But Natalia had kept up her acquaintances with Nikolai and Oleiana over the years and she knew that the so called accident had really been orchestrated by Stark’s business partner and trusted companion, the bad man that Natalia had warned Nikolai about all those years ago. 

She couldn’t help shuddering, remembering the cold harsh stare of indifference she’d had the displeasure of coming into contact with twice before. For a genius, the man must’ve been pretty foolish to never have even had an inkling that the one who controlled his company alongside him had been dealing behind his back since his father was still alive. If it was true that Stane had ordered a hit on the guy and had the sense to do it miles from home in a setting that was sure to rile up the people who held him dear, then Stark was surely dead. 

She remembered the clean, rebellious, fast talking, handsome young man who’d offered ice cream to her when he thought she was a little lost child and she almost felt something akin to pity for him. Then she recalled the cool, arrogant, still equally as rebellious playboy she’d locked lips with at that gala and decided that he wouldn’t have wanted her or anyone else to pity him. 

Still, she poured herself some vodka and raised a glass to the poor fool. 

XXXXX

August 25, 2007

Thirty-seven days. That’s how long the Search for Stark, as the media dubbed it, had been going on. The average missing person would get about seventy-two hours before authorities would presume the person dead and move on, but not America’s favorite son. 

Of course it was only the American news that was still crying about Stark, showing vigils on the television and keeping the public informed of any new developments in the search (there were none), but then again that was the problem with Americans in the first place. They didn’t know how to move on.

If this one man was so important to their country anyway, then who thought it was a good idea to bring him into an active war zone in the first place? 

After thirty-seven days there he still was, his charming smile showing off perfectly straight white teeth and his impossibly long thick eyelashes framing wide, deceptively innocent brown eyes. 

She turned off the American news station in her apartment, deciding that anything international that she needed to know would come to her on her devices anyway. 

XXXXX

October 20, 2007 

It was nearly 1am when she heard a frantic knocking on her bedroom door. Oleiana was sleeping on her couch that night because it would be easier to travel to the airport for her next assignment in the morning. 

“Natalia! Come quick. You have to see this,” She said urgently in her soft-spoken voice. 

She grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she clumsily followed her friend to her modest living room, where Oleiana was pushing the blankets on the couch aside and motioning for her sit. 

Her mouth dropped open when she looked at the breaking news coming in to disrupt Oleiana’s late night soap operas, and for a second she was not entirely convinced that she wasn’t still sleeping.

Tony Stark had been found alive and well and was back in the States, the news reporter was saying. 

“Isn’t he that American guy you keep getting mixed up with?” Oleiana said, reaching for the open bag of potato chips that was sitting on the coffee table. 

“Yeah,” She said idly, her eyes glued to the television. Evidently, he hadn’t perished in the “accident” his colleague had staged for him, instead he’d been held captive in a cave for ninety-two days before he’d somehow escaped. 

“Mmmm. He sure is dreamy. I wouldn’t mind getting mixed up with him myself,” her friend said, crunching loudly. “Do you think they’d let me travel to America in your place the next time?” 

Natalia’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and she reached for the remote, shushing her friend as she raised the volume in time to see the news program switch to a live press conference, featuring Stark sitting on the floor in front of the podium next to Stane, who was gazing at the younger man with a tight-lipped, practiced smile. 

She felt an inexplicable surge of pride swell through her just then, watching the bad man’s distaste with Stark’s words as he announced to fifty flashing lights and clicking tape recorders that effective immediately, he was shutting down the weapons division of his company. So nobody he didn’t authorize himself could get their hands on his stuff, she realized with a smirk. She thought briefly about how annoyed Nikolai and the others would be and her smile grew wider.

Leave it to Stark to still be rebelling against his upbringing and doing whatever he wanted to do, regardless of what those around him told him to do. In that moment, watching while his people quickly ushered him away so Stane could address the crowd of reporters and journalists in an attempt to do some damage control, she thought that she could almost find the rebellious quality in him admirable. 

XXXXX

March 4, 2008

After the news that Stark was found safe and sound, she thought she was finished hearing about American happenings for awhile. But then things started to get strange in the States. 

First sightings of an armored flying man were being reported from California. Then the sightings were being reported outside of America too, although surely some of those would be made up stories. 

The incident that caught international attention was the one that took place in Gulmira, not far from where the American billionaire was allegedly held captive. The media dubbed the figure Iron Man and portrayed him to be some sort of vigilante warrior.

As if it wasn’t enough to have one crazy guy in a metal suit running around, suddenly another, bigger one appeared. 

It wasn’t long before Natalia learned through her inner circle that the guy in the bigger Iron Monger suit was none other than Obadiah Stane, probably on his own self-guided war path to end Stark once and for all and regain control of the company so he could go back to making his illegal fortune. 

The Iron Monger’s identity was never publicized, not even after his demise and just when she thought for a second time that the American drama would finally stay in America, Stark called another press conference. 

She wasn’t sure what made her tune in. Maybe it was the fact that she was bored at the airport waiting for her flight to her next assignment, or that despite her best efforts, she too was curious when rumors started flying that Stark was preparing a statement to address the mysterious red and gold Iron Man and to comment on the future of his company without Stane. 

She gasped audibly, along with several others in the airport, when Stark announced for all the world to hear, “the truth is…. I am Iron Man.” 

She was already half way to China when she got the call from her commanding officer that she was being reassigned and that her transportation would be redirected to the States.


	10. Crimson Dawn

March 9, 2008

Natalia sat perched in the branches of a tree, high enough that no one would hear any noise she might unintentionally make as she sifted through the notes she’d been keeping on her phone and far enough away that she wouldn’t be detected by the security cameras. 

Stark had announced to the world only five days ago that he was Iron Man and suddenly she found herself in America once again. This time she hadn’t been sent to distract him while others did the dirty work. This time the dirty work was all her responsibility. 

Agencies all around the world were clamoring to make their own armored flying soldiers, and surely her handlers wanted to be first to get their hands on the technology. They’d originally sent her to Malibu hours after Stark’s confession, but after a few days of spying on him and his staff she realized that any blueprints for the armor or the mysterious device that was rumored to be keeping him alive were locked far away from where anyone would suspect. 

“You’d better be right,” her commanding officer had warned her. You’d think by now her superiors would have realized that she was always right.

Now, here she was sitting in a tree outside his Chicago town house as she plotted her burglary. There was armed security watching the place of course, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle on her own. She knew that Stark himself and anyone particularly close to him was safely situated miles away in his home state. It would be hours before he got wind of anything gone awry at the town house, and by then she would be long gone and successfully delivering her prize. 

She carefully calculated her path, mentally preparing for how long it would take to disarm the guards and zap his surveillance before breaking into the house and finding the safe.   
She’d been to billionaire’s houses before. None of them were fool enough to keep their valuables in plain sight. In her past experience, the real safe was generally kept near the basement. In this case, with him being so hands-on, one might even expect him to have things hidden all over his workshop.

But she knew that Stark wouldn’t be predictable like that. Just like he’d gone against his instinct to keep the plans for his most prized invention close by holding them here, he would’ve done the opposite of what was expected. No way would they be locked up in the main safe with the rest of whatever family valuables were here. 

She decided that since she only had time to check one spot before his security system would undoubtedly kick back in, she would search his office. In his personal safe. 

His taste in design left the smaller townhouse looking similar to his mansion in Malibu, with open glass windows around every room. It didn’t take her long to figure out which office was his and how to get there once she entered the place. She would walk in through the front door once she took down his security guard, head to the office in a normal manner like he would. 

Once her plan was decided, she leapt down from the tree with a confident maneuver, landing gracefully in a silent crouch. She descended on her target swiftly, using her signature thighs around the neck move to disable him before he could even turn his gun on her, squeezing hard enough to make him pass out but not hard enough to suffocate him. 

A quick tap of her device on the main camera panel had his surveillance signal scrambled long enough for her to disarm the security panel and she knew from that point on she wouldn’t have much time until the breach would get back to him and his team in Malibu. 

She quickly made her way to his office, her legs moving in wide strides and she searched frantically for a moment behind framed works of art and under a striped rug before she found it on the other side of his desk, disguised as a third drawer. 

She pulled a thin device from inside a pouch on her tactical belt and used the ultra violet beam to decipher which numbered buttons to press, using what she knew of the order in which he preferred the colors to crack the code. 

She breathed a long sigh of relief when it worked and she held the blue prints in her hands, running her fingertips for a moment over the detailed pencil sketches almost reverently before the alarm sounded, causing her to jump a mile out of her own skin. 

She leapt up, staying close to the walls and darting into the shadows as more security guards rushed in. 

There was four of them and they were all armed, with their weapons pointed directly at her, but she hadn’t trained all her life for nothing. 

She activated her wrist cuffs, pulled her hood around to cover her nose and mouth before shooting a few quick puffs into the air and the men all dropped to the floor after a few seconds of breathing in her homemade tranquilizer. 

What she wasn’t expecting once she made it outside were the dogs, nine of them barking viscously as they chased her. 

Knowing there was no way she could possibly outrun nine security dogs, she leapt back into the tree, taking a few minutes to catch her breath before pressing a button on her phone to silently call for an extraction and moving from one tree to another until she was off his property and the dogs had given up their chase after they could no longer get a visual on her. 

It was Nikolai who showed up in the stealth jet two hours later, grinning as he held out a hand to pull her inside. 

“Did you get them?” He asked. 

She rolled her eyes, thrusting the crumbled papers into his chest. “Who do you think you are asking?” She said. “Of course I did. And it was almost too easy.” 

XXXXX

April 10, 2008 

It didn’t even take the engineers her superiors had hired to replicate the armor a month before a satisfactory sample was built. 

Mikhail had come by to see it, proud of the work she’d completed yet again. “My girl, that powerful Stark boy is no match for you,” he said, his smile wide. “Now come. Feast your eyes on the product of your success!” 

The other girls who’d been in the program with her gazed at her admiringly as their commanding officer addressed the agents. 

“We may no longer have access to the weapons and technology the great Obadiah Stane was graciously supplying us with for all those years. But now we’ve reached a new dawn, a crimson dawn where we will be unstoppable. Introducing our greatest weapon to date, the Crimson Dynamo!” 

The figure that sauntered out to greet them was clunkier than she would’ve thought, but he was painted red and gold to match Iron Man and the armor was just as indestructible. 

The agents gasped when he flew over them and let out a few blasts into the air from his palms, clapping appreciatively as he landed before them. 

Red metallic gloves reached up to his face to pull his mask away and Natalia yelped in surprise when the Crimson Dynamo revealed himself to the team. 

It was Nikolai.


End file.
